Nebula
by Galimaufry
Summary: There was no one word that could describe them. PeinKonan, 20 prompts style


Yes, another one. I do so love this pairing though.

Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with Masashi Kishimoto or own any of these characters.

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Fault line: after years of being together, Konan knows how to read Pein as well as she knows the folds of her origami. And actually, the two aren't all that different. Both require clean, concise measurements and knowledge of when to stop pushing. For as invulnerable as he appears to the outside world, Konan can still remember the boy lying in the mud, close to starving to death. She remembers this and knows that he does have fault lines, that he is neither unbeatable nor unbreakable. But Konan does not mind this knowledge, because if she knows where he is weak, she also knows where to best protect him.

Devil: Konan is Pein's angel, and she stands at his right hand because, once upon a time, the symbolism amused both of them in an infinitesimal way. But now there is Akatsuki, and what was once innocent seems both darker and more meaningful than before. She is his angel, he is her God. And then there is Madara, who, if not angel or God, must surely be the devil. When Konan mentioned that to Pein though, he just stared flatly at her and asked: "Where would that leave us then, if he is the devil?" The question haunted her at meetings ever since, and she does not ask again.

Precious: Pein decided a long time ago, back when he was just Nagato, that he would protect everyone around him. He failed Yahiko, and sense that day, he swore even harder that he would never fail Konan in that way. So when Jiraiya showed up, loud as ever and just as self-righteous, Pein was angry. He had wanted to protect them, and now he could only protect her. And if he had to be a God to insure that he could, than so be it. Jiraiya could never understand, but in all honesty, Nagato's goals never changed that much.

Lose: Konan can never help but feel the anxiety pool in her abdomen whenever Pein sets out to fight. He has never lost, which should provide some sense of comfort, but it doesn't. As she is constantly reminded by the countless bodies at her feet, it only takes one loss to never come back at all. Every time that he returns, she fights the urge to plead for him to never leave. Kona doesn't know how she will survive if he ever does lose.

Worship: Pein is a kind God, and he is content to remain a lingering presence on his country's mind. He never asked for sacrifices, aside from the sacrifice that all shinobi must make. Even then, he never asks for much. As he sees it, it is a God's duty to protect his people, and this is a duty that he does with utmost sincerity. Konan, on the other hand, worships her God with all her being, and it is all she can do to stop herself from lashing out at those who dishonor him. She refrains though, only out of respect for his wishes. Since Pein demands no sacrifice, she will worship him all the more.

Life: It there is one thing that Konan ever regrets about her jutsu, it is that it renders her incapable of bearing new life. In some ways, Konan never fully got over the small voice in the back of her head that says that this detracts from her as a woman. When she voiced that sentiment to Pein, he is quick to assure her through raindrop light kisses that she alone is enough for him.

Death: Pein wonders if with their respective jutsu, the both of them have managed to cheat death. The Rinnegan trapped his real body in a between state, and the rest of his bodies do not age, do not wither. And similarly, when Konan dissolves once more into sheets of paper, the blood ceases to flow and any imperfections are cleared away in a shuffle of white.

Rain: in Amegakure, it is considered cliché to make love in the rain, but nevertheless, sometimes they do it anyway. Only in the largest of storms, assured of their privacy and safety in the midst on the tempest. Their fingers leave wet tracks down each others sides, the water creating a slick barrier between bare skin. In the midst of Pein's thunder and lightning, Konan offers her homage to her God.

Speak: At Akatsuki meetings, Konan speaks rarely; many of the newer members have never heard her at all. But though she has no part in the conversation, it amazes her just how much some of these Shinobi give away through their constant commentary. At other times, Konan thinks that for all of how loud they are, nothing is really ever said, that their yelling is just blustering, pointless noise. (Tobi is the primary example of this phenomenon of course, with the truth a not-quite-funny joke between the three of them who_ know_)

Remember: Konan despises remembering that there was ever a third person to their team. She blames herself just as surely as Pein blames himself. But still, sometimes when she is half awake and not in total control of her reactions, she can't help the sharp wince in her chest when she catches a glimpse of used-to-be-Yahiko. Thankfully, she can hide this reaction safely from Pein.

Heights: with their respective jutsu, neither of them have any fear of heights. Infact, most of their time is spent in the air or on high precipices, looking down at the rotting city beneath them. They long since realized that if the climb high enough, reach far enough, rise above the rest of the world, the slums and destitution blend together with the neon lighting to create a shining multifaceted jewel.

Supernova: When Pein unleashes his power on Konoha, Konan think that it is nothing so much as a supernova, destroying himself and their enemies in one fell swoop. And though the victory seems closer than ever, she can not help but mourn quietly in the ruins for what has been lost.

Paper: In a way, Konan prefers her origami to real life. The clear fold and clean planes are comforting to her, they make sense in a way that real life too often does not. In the midst of growing up and loosing so much, this alone remained the same. Her talent has improved, yes, but she remains true to the simpler from of her childhood. Butterfly, cat, crane, rose, lily; all of these shapes sit beside her complex geometric designs for a new jutsu. They are equal in her eyes.

Red: For someone who killed as regularly as she did, Konan is not at all used to the feel of blood on her skin. Origami, after all, cannot have blood. But Pein bleeds so, so much. Sometimes, when he comes in after a spectacularly easy mission with blood spatters down his face, she wonders if perhaps he just isn't bleeding for the both of them; all of their endless hurt seeping out slowly over time. She puts the question out of her mind as she wipes away the blood with her paper and watches the red swirl into white.

Air: When they were children, it was the drier months of winter that were the harshest on the three of them. Even then, the water never really stopped, it simply turned into tiny barely-there droplets that chilled the skin without soaking in, and was impossible to escape from. The heavy rain at least could be guarded against with doors and thinker clothes, but how can you escape from air itself?

Tree: There are hardly any trees left in Ame, not the kind that used to grow strong and proud. The civil war killed most of the large ones, either through the destructive force of jutsu, or through digging them up and using them as civilian shields. After that, there were only the small ones, the saplings grown from the veritable fires of hell, and the ashes of renewal. Konan doesn't think that Pein notices it overmuch, as he never says anything to her about nature in general, trees particularly. But Konan misses the large trunks, all the same; she was born in the countryside that no longer exists. It is not long after she starts to think this that Pein requests her to create a hiding place for his true body -deep within the bole of a paper tree. She never finds out how he knows.

Sleep: Nagato is wrapped around Konan in the dark, his long arms (scattered with black piercings that never warm, because this body has no true body heat, only suspension and false life and trivial animation without the soul) pulling her closer to him so he can bury his not-face into her blue hair. It's been three weeks, and he still isn't used to this almost feeling of the world around him. His real body, (the one that's really his, and not stolen in an action that feels almost like grave robbery), is awake somewhere in the surrounding area. Nagato has just realized that these bodies do not need the same sleep as he used to, but he doesn't want to upset Konan any more than he knows that he surely already has, with everything that has happened in the past month. So he feigns it for her sake, and just lies there, regulating his every breath, and bringing her as close as he can dare, using arms that are not his and the feelings that too much are.

Eat: Konohagakure eats its children. Jiraiya never taught the three of them this, but it is true. Even though years later it was Madara who said it in as many words, Pein and Konan could feel it from the start. Konoha eats and eats and eats the surrounding countries that it once spawned from border colonies and smaller towns, because Konoha was built on the hatred of two men; and those men eat their own children. It has become the system, and it is an order that is impossible to break. In the end, it is this system that kills Pein, eaten down by Konoha's battles and the greater, all consuming hunger of Madara. Konoha may eat its children, but Madara was the one to teach it how.

Art: It was Yahiko that first recommended to Konan that she use her origami as her weapon, to use the sharp folds and clear cuts as something to cause harm. Ever agreeable to him, Konan had obliged, ignoring the frown that threatened to mar her face at the thought of her art being used for something as crude as conflict. But then, she used it again and again, until it was more comfortable than a kunai in her hands. Not to mention considerably more dangerous. But after he died, it was Nagato who asked, not told, but _asked_ with a wretchedly sad look in his eyes if she would become his angel. Konan, ever agreeable, allowed that as well. And then, that became more comfortable as well.

Grave: After that battle, Konan visits the grave once each month, at exactly the moment that one day dissolved into the next. She has enough paper for everything now, with the reserves that she has taken from her part of Akatsuki's money, and could buy all the colors in the spectrum. She buys only one. Her skin produces infinite amounts of white paper, so she buys black. One sheet at a time, she works on two pieces of origami a month, folding each crease knife sharp, with greater care than anything that she has ever done before. Tucking, pulling, and pushing each slip of paper into place. In the end, Konan lays down two new roses every time she goes. One black, made from the money taken from the organization that he died for, and one pure white, pulled from the skin of the one person that he had lived for, neither rose wilts.

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Reviews and feedback would be nice, since I'm not quite sure how this turned out.


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